


Still Holding On

by aleksrothis



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Denethor's A+ Parenting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:17:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleksrothis/pseuds/aleksrothis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere between life and death, Faramir remembers his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He was drifting, somewhere, surrounded by blackness. Faramir wondered briefly if he was dead and if this was what it felt like. Just floating in this still darkness for eternity. He didn't think he was dead... if only he could remember how he'd ended up here.

As he struggled to recall what had happened to him, Faramir noticed his surroundings changing. It seemed to be becoming steadily lighter. As he tried to search for the source of the glow, a bright light appeared up in front of him, gradually moving closer. Suddenly, the brightness was all around him, blinding him with its brilliance.

As his eyes became accustomed to this brightness, Faramir slowly became aware of another's presence within it. He stared at the figure as it moved closer, a desperate hope forming in his breast. Could he actually be dead? Might this be his brother? Might they be reunited here?

"Boromir?" he asked tentatively, as the figure moved closer. A couple more steps, a couple more moments for his eyes to adjust and then he could be certain.

And then his companion spoke and he was certain. "Yes, brother," Boromir replied, but his tone was edged with sadness. Faramir had reached out to touch him, wanting reassurance that he wasn't merely a mirage conjured up by his own desires, but froze at the sound of his words.

Not knowing how else to continue, Faramir simply asked the question that was nearest in his thoughts, "Where are we?"

"You are somewhere you do not belong," his brother answered, the reason for his sadness becoming more evident as he continued. "You must leave this place and return home, beloved."

"What are you talking about? I can't leave, I... I can't lose you again," Faramir said, becoming distraught. He could barely remember how he had come to be here, or where he had come from, but what memories he did have were filled with pain. He shook his head; he wouldn't return to that, especially not if it meant losing his brother once more.

Distantly he remembered his pain, his utter desolation upon learning of his brother's death. At times he cursed his too-accurate dreams, and the vision he had seen of Boromir's funeral boat had seemed as such a one, a truth foretold or already past. Trusting in his vision he had mourned from that moment, but it seemed he had still held some hope that Boromir lived. Now, facing him, Faramir knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he should leave this place he would never gaze upon his brother again.

"You should not be here, Faramir," Boromir continued. "You are still needed by our people. You must return..."

Faramir was barely aware of what he said next, crying out in denial, "I can't. I won't go back. I cannot live without you." Tears welled in his eyes at this thought.  
His brother, or maybe just his brother's shade, reached out and stroked his cheek. Without conscious thought, Faramir took a step closer to him, wrapping his arms around his brother, or whatever he was. He felt real enough, solid to the touch; Faramir even thought he could felt his heart beating strong inside his chest, but it might just have been the echo of his own. He held Boromir tightly, never wanting to let go.

"You must go back, beloved," Boromir said tenderly. "As much as I wish it, I cannot keep you here with me."

"Please, Boromir. Don't make me leave," Faramir pleaded, but his brother was already pulling away from his embrace.

"You still have much left to do," Boromir tried to reassure him as his spirit began to fade. "Hold on, Faramir, hold on to life, for you still have much to live for..."

"No," Faramir said. "Without you I have nothing left to live for." Boromir just shook his head sadly, as Faramir tried to reach out to him, tried to go to him, and he became increasingly distant. The light seemed to fade away, but Faramir was unsure if it was he, or the light, that was moving. "Boromir..." he called frantically, one last time, before the image of his brother was engulfed by the darkness.

From childhood the brothers had loved each other, having no one else. Their father, Denethor, was preoccupied with the concerns of Gondor and its people and had had little time for his sons, especially as their mere presence was a painful reminder of his beloved wife who'd died so tragically and so young.

Left to their own devices, more often than not, the two brothers spent every free moment together. Boromir had always been protective of his younger brother and, when Faramir was old enough, it was therefore Boromir who taught him swordsmanship and other fighting skills, despite Faramir's preference for lore and music.

And it was finally to Boromir that Faramir had confessed, on the day of his coming of age, that his interest lay not in women, but that he preferred, as he knew his brother did too, the company of men. It had seemed only natural that Boromir should have offered to teach his younger brother of the ways of the flesh, though neither admitted until later the depths of their feelings.

Now, hanging in that void, waiting and hoping for death to claim him, Faramir remembered the first time they'd truly made love, reliving his memories of his brother's love, and longing for their final reunion.


	2. Chapter 2

_Now, hanging in that void, waiting and hoping for death to claim him, Faramir remembered the first time they'd truly made love, reliving his memories of his brother's love, and longing for their final reunion._

It was summer in Minas Tirith. Seemingly endless days of heat, sun beating down on the city. On one of those relentlessly hot days Boromir and Faramir were sparring in the courtyard of the tower. As the sun had reached its peak the two brothers had stripped to the waist, and now sweat covered both their bodies. Muscles stretched and rippled under sun-bronzed skin.

The brothers' fight had collected quite a large audience, mostly lounging in the shadows around the courtyard's edge. Both of the Steward's sons were talented swordsmen and admired by many; although Faramir was often mocked for his unwillingness to fight in real battle, none could deny his ability.

After a number of closely fought matches, they had decided that one last match would decide who should be overall winner. The last fight was fierce and intense, neither brother giving an inch despite the heat and their tiredness. Finally, Faramir managed to catch Boromir off-guard with a cunning feint and disarm him. Seconds later he had his brother on the ground with his sword at his throat. Boromir smiled. "Well brother, it seems that you've bested me today."

Faramir returned the smile, helping his brother up. "Does that mean I get a prize?" he asked, jokingly.

Boromir, however, had an interested look on his face and, leaning in close so that they couldn't be overheard, said, "What would you like as a reward?" The words, spoken in a husky voice, sounded so erotic that Faramir felt weak at the knees. He met his brother's eyes, and the intense look he received made his instantly aroused.

Clearly aware of the effect he was having on his younger brother, Boromir quickly excused them both. They made their way out of the courtyard, and headed into the tower. As soon as they were out of sight, Boromir slammed his brother up against the nearest wall.

Faramir moaned with desire as he was kissed passionately, wrapping his arms around Boromir's back, trying to pull him closer. As Boromir took hold of his hips to press their bodies together, Faramir could feel the evidence of his desire. The younger Man deliberately writhed against him, knowing that it would drive his brother wild with need.

"If you keep doing that I'm going to take you right here against this wall..." Boromir threatened. He was having trouble holding himself back as it was, and didn't think he could take any more of his brother's teasing.

Faramir flushed at his words, even as desire grew within him; he longed for Boromir to do just that, to finally take him. However, as badly as he wanted Boromir, he still had enough modesty that he didn't want to risk being caught in the act. Not to mention their father's likely reaction to finding out that his sons were involved with each other. He stopped moving, and loosened his arms so that Boromir could step back.

For a moment they just looked at one another, both breathing heavily, then Boromir grabbed hold of Faramir by the wrist, pulling him along with him. "Come on..." he said, and then, "my room's the closest." Faramir didn't argue or put up any resistance, but allowed himself to be led wheresoever Boromir wished.

Finally they were alone in Boromir's chambers. He drew the bolt shut and turned, as Faramir reversed their roles and took charge, pushing him up against the door, kissing him. Faramir's hands were fumbling with his brother's belt and trouser fastenings, then Boromir was gasping with pleasure as Faramir took hold of his swollen cock.

A moment later Faramir broke away from the kiss, and before Boromir could say anything, he was on his knees in front of him. This was something that he loved doing for his brother, just being able to give him this pleasure. As a child he had worshipped his brother, watching him from a distance, now he worshipped his body with his hands and mouth.

Boromir was so aroused that he nearly came from the first feel of his brother's mouth on his cock. It always felt so good, every time Faramir did this for him. He couldn't get enough of this incredible feeling.

Faramir took his time, alternately licking along his brother's thick shaft, then taking the head in his mouth, sucking and letting his tongue play across the engorged flesh. He looked up at Boromir, waiting until their eyes met before licking his lips teasingly, and then taking as much of his cock into his mouth as possible.

Although he couldn't quite manage the whole length it was more than enough for Boromir. He threw his head back, crying out in pleasure, unable to form any thoughts with that gorgeous, hot wetness surrounding his manhood. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, and he was barely aware as he wrapped his hands in his brother's hair, hips thrusting into that perfect mouth.

Faramir didn't even try to stop him, instead relaxing his throat muscles and allowing Boromir to fuck his mouth. Faramir knew that his brother loved it when he did this for him, freeing him from the necessity of having to control or temper his desire.

As his release grew closer, Boromir began to moan incoherently, "Yes... yes... oh, gods yes... please Faramir... ohhh... please... need... Faramir... love you... ohhhh..." And then he came, hard, crying his brother's name.

Faramir swallowed every drop of the seed that was spilled into his mouth, milking his brother's cock for the last of it. Boromir was still shaking from the intensity of his release as Faramir moved back up his body, tracing a path of kisses over his chest and neck until he reached his mouth. Once more their lips met, were crushed forcefully against each other. Faramir pushed against the seam of his lips until his brother allowed his tongue into his mouth, making him share the taste of his essence.

Their tongues pressed against each other, both battling for control of the kiss. Finally, gasping for air, Faramir pulled away and took a step back, looking with hunger at his brother's body.

Boromir leaned against the door as if it were the only thing holding him up. His eyes were glazed over with pleasure and it took him a moment to focus on where Faramir had gone. He reached a hand out to him but, instead of coming back, Faramir took another step away. Boromir frowned in confusion, his thoughts still slowed by what he had just experienced.

Faramir bit his lip with nervousness. He was terrified of how Boromir would react to what he had to say, but was determined to reveal his true feelings, whatever the consequences. He took a deep breath, then met his brother's eyes. For a moment he was lost in their grey depths, then Boromir broke the silence between them.

"Faramir?" he asked, wondering what could be worrying his younger brother. He went to take a step towards him, intending to try and ease whatever anxiety he felt, but realised that he would be hindered by his trousers which were, at that point, around his ankles.

Faramir looked away a second time, his momentary courage fading. Staring at the floor, unwilling to risk seeing condemnation on his brother's face, he said softly, "I think I'm in love with you." When Boromir failed to respond Faramir wished that he could sink through the floor. *How could I have been so foolish to think that he might share my feelings? We're brothers, for Valar's sake,* he berated himself.

Meanwhile, Boromir was stunned into silence. He had been briefly reluctant to hear what Faramir had to say, fearing that he'd said or done something to push him away. He couldn't bear the thought of losing him, and had worried for some time that Faramir would hate him if he ever discovered what he felt for him. But now, if he wasn't imagining things...

No, he must be, Faramir could not really have said what he thought he had. Somehow he managed to ask, "What did you just say?" Boromir was surprised by how steady his voice was, even though his hands were shaking and his heart was pounding.

Faramir was steadfastly refusing to look at his brother and so didn't realise how deeply his words had affected him. He couldn't hear the disgust he's expected in Boromir's voice, but nevertheless he was afraid to repeat himself in case the only reason for his brother's calmness was that he hadn't heard or understood what he had said.

"Faramir?" Boromir prompted, sounding confused.

At last Faramir dared to look him in the eye, knowing that, having got this far, he had to go through with it. "I said I think I'm in love with you." There, he'd said it at last, though not without considerable hesitancy. Trying not to panic, he simply stared straight at Boromir, awaiting his reaction, forcing himself not to think about what he would suffer should his brother chose to reveal this admission to their father.

Boromir's breath had caught in his throat as Faramir had repeated his words. He really had said what he had thought he'd heard the first time. Boromir could hardly believe that his brother could feel that way towards him. Knowing that such feelings were unnatural, he had never dared hope that they might be reciprocated. Overcome with joy, he couldn't speak through the sudden tightness in his throat, but instead just stared at Faramir. He could see in his brother's eyes that he meant what he'd said, and was sure that his own emotions must be evident from his expression.

However, expecting rejection, Faramir had looked away after only a few seconds. When Boromir didn't speak, Faramir had turned away and walked over to the window, sure that he would be asked to leave. *I should have known better,* he thought. *Now he won't want me anywhere near him.*

Realising that Faramir had misinterpreted his silence, Boromir knew that he would have to show him how he truly felt. After quickly struggling out of his boots, then kicking off his trousers, Boromir walked up behind Faramir, wrapping his arms around his brother's body. Not trusting his voice, he simply stood there for a moment, holding him.

Faramir was taken by surprise at his brother's actions. He had been fighting back tears up till that point, but once Boromir touched him, without accusation, he felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. *He isn't disgusted by my feelings! I haven't driven away.*

They stood together for a few minutes, still, just enjoying their awareness of the other's presence. Then Faramir turned in his brother's arms, so that he could see his face. Their eyes met and they could both see clearly the truth of the other's feelings.

Finally Boromir spoke. "You don't know how long I have longed to hear that from you," he said, his voice deep with emotion.

Faramir felt the last remnants of his tension flow out of his body. "And to think that I was terrified that you would reject me," he replied, trying to keep his tone light.

"Never," Boromir assured him, hearing the strain in his brother's voice, despite his attempt to hide it. "I could never reject you, my love."


	3. Chapter 3

"Never," Boromir assured him, hearing the strain in his brother's voice, despite his attempt to hide it. "I could never reject you, my love."

Faramir clung to his brother, now struggling to hold back tears of joy. *He called me 'love.'* They just held each other for a moment, then Faramir slid a hand up the curve of his brother's back, up to his neck, to pull him down into a fervent kiss. They stayed like this for a while until forced, by need for air, to break apart. A few moments later Boromir laughed softly, releasing Faramir from his embrace and stepping back to look at him.

"I think you are wearing far too many clothes, brother," he said, lightly.

Faramir merely smiled in response. "So what do you think I should do about that?" he asked, with a suggestive look on his face.

"I believe that you should remedy this situation immediately," Boromir replied, struggling to keep his face straight.

Without speaking, Faramir began to strip off his remaining clothing. First his boots came off, then he slowly removed his belt and started to undo his trouser fastenings.

Boromir watched this show with a look of appreciation on his face. He wasn't surprised to feel himself beginning to respond to the sight of his brother's beautiful body. He reached out for Faramir, but the younger Man simply took a step back. Boromir made a sound of frustration, but forced himself to wait for Faramir to finish undressing.

A moment later, Faramir was finally naked, and he stood still briefly, allowing Boromir to take a good look at him. Then, instead of going to his brother, he walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Boromir turned, following his movement with his eyes. "Aren't you going to come and join me?" Faramir asked.

Answering with actions rather than words, Boromir was in front of him almost instantly and then, taking hold of his brother's shoulders, pushed him backwards until his back was flat on the bed. Hovering over him, Boromir gave a predatory smile before leaning down to press his lips against Faramir's.

As their kiss deepened, Boromir's grip loosened and Faramir reached up to stroke his hands against his brother's strong chest. Boromir moaned with desire as Faramir's long fingers caressed and pinched his nipples, turning them into firm peaks. Their kiss became more demanding; lips parting, tongues meeting, and then pressing against each other.

Boromir shifted his hands so that one cupped the back of Faramir's head whilst the other slid down to caress his manhood. Faramir gasped as his hard length was enclosed in his brother's grasp. Boromir lightly stroked his thumb across the head of his brother's erection and Faramir's hips jerked as he tried to thrust into that pleasure.

Tangling the fingers of his other hand through Faramir's hair, Boromir pulled back from the kiss to gaze upon his brother's flushed face. Trailing kisses across the younger Man's face and neck, Boromir continued to stroke his cock, taking his own pleasure in the way Faramir writhed in desire beneath him.

Faramir moved his hands so he could hold onto his brother's shoulders, pulling their bodies closer together as if he could pull Boromir inside him if he tried hard enough. He spread his legs apart, drawing his knees up, so as to allow Boromir to settle between his thighs.

He felt his release approaching and began to thrust harder into his brother's hand. But as he was almost about to come, Boromir suddenly stopped stroking his cock, instead pinching it just below the head, preventing him from reaching satisfaction. Faramir groaned in frustration, looking at Boromir with a questioning expression.

Boromir smiled, telling him, "I want you to come with me inside you." Faramir shuddered at the intensity in his brother's voice. For all that the brothers had experienced with each other, they had never before gone that far, however tempted they had been, knowing that it would cause an irreversible change in their relationship. However, now that they had expressed and shared their deepest emotions, it only seemed right that they should take this final step.

Faramir was nervous. Although he had taken other lovers, he had never cared about them deeply enough to allow them this intimacy. Whilst he knew that he could trust Boromir to go slowly and not to hurt him, the thought of what they were about to do filled him with trepidation.

Realising what his brother was feeling from the sudden tension in his body, Boromir tried to reassure him. "Don't worry, beloved. Nothing has to happen if you don't want it to. Just relax..." he whispered.

The soothing tone of his words did relax Faramir a little, but his muscles remained somewhat tense. Very aware of Boromir's arousal, and the weight of his body above him, Faramir held himself still, as if to move would be to encourage his brother to act.

Knowing that they wouldn't get anywhere with Faramir that tense, Boromir moved off of his brother and lay at his side, urging him to shift further onto the bed where they could lay more comfortably. "There's no need to rush at anything, love. We've got all the time in the world," he told him gently, as he reached over to brush a hand across Faramir's face.

Faramir turned into the caress, rubbing his cheek against Boromir's rough palm. When Boromir's fingers passed over his lips, he parted them, laving their tips and softly biting at one. Faramir smiled as Boromir groaned at the unexpected touch.

As Faramir turned his body to face his brother, Boromir couldn't resist leaning in to kiss him again. This time, however, their kiss was slow and gentle. Boromir didn't want to rush him, didn't want Faramir to feel that he was being pressured in any way, especially not over something as serious as this. Almost instinctively though, Boromir found his hands roaming across his brother's body, trying to ease away his tension.

Faramir moaned softly as Boromir continued to caress him, relaxing his tense muscles. Soon he was again writhing against his brother's body, eager to experience more. He froze momentarily as Boromir's fingers slid across his buttocks, finding his hidden cleft, but forced himself to stay calm, knowing that his brother would be careful not to cause him pain.

Still, Boromir couldn't help but notice Faramir's reaction and once again stopped to reassure him. "If I'm going too fast, if you want me to stop at any point just say..."

"No, don't stop," Faramir interrupted him. "Just... slowly, please..."

"Of course," Boromir answered, as his fingers gently continued their exploration of this, his brother's most private point. One hand moved, returning to Faramir's cock, lightly stroking his heated flesh, then slipping behind to play with his balls. The other hand rested on his buttocks, waiting for Faramir to relax further.

Soon Faramir was distracted by the pleasurable sensations rising in his crotch and Boromir was able to press a finger against his brother's entrance and push the tip inside. Faramir jerked away from the probing finger and cried out softly, but Boromir didn't draw away, instead leaning forwards to join their lips, silencing his brother.

Faramir allowed his brother to carry on touching him so intimately, as the shock of the intrusion faded, and it didn't seem as strange as he had feared. In fact, his body appeared to be responding as much to that feeling as to the more familiar stimulation of his cock. Trusting that Boromir knew what he was doing, Faramir found the last of his tension disappearing.

Realising that Faramir would soon be ready to take the next step, Boromir tried to think of what he had to hand that could be used as a lubricant. If only he had considered the possibility of this in advance, then he would have been able to sneak some cooking oil from the kitchens. As it was he struggled to think for a moment. Glancing quickly about his room Boromir's gaze came to rest on the lantern, which sat on his dresser. Of course! He should have remembered that he had a spare jar of oil in his travelling pack.

Gently he withdrew his fingers, leaving Faramir protesting at their loss. Boromir laid his hand against Faramir's chest until his brother's eyes refocused on his face. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" he asked. There was no need to elaborate further, both Men knew what he was referring to.

Faramir stared at him, his gaze seeming to pierce Boromir's flesh and look straight into his soul. He smiled without a trace of his earlier nervousness. "Yes," he said simply, although that single word appeared to be imbued with hidden layers of meaning, the sign of a deeper acceptance.

Boromir returned the smile, then pressed a soft kiss to his brother's lips. "I'll be but a moment," he said. Rising quickly he stepped over to where his pack was propped up in the corner of his chamber. He crouched down, rummaging through its pockets.

Laying still on the bed, nerves aching in anticipation, Faramir watched him, wondering what he was searching for. When Boromir turned back towards him, something clutched in his hand he could no longer contain his curiosity. "What's that?"

Boromir smiled affectionately, "Something that should make what happens next a lot easier." He knelt on the bed beside Faramir and uncorked the flask, allowing some oil to drizzle across his fingers. Then, looking over at Faramir he said, "Why don't you roll over onto your side..."

Faramir did as instructed, turning to face away from his brother and awaiting his touch. He didn't have to wait long. Soon Boromir's now oil slickened fingers resumed their exploration of his body and Faramir rapidly began to respond to that sensation.

After a few moments more Boromir once again withdrew his fingers and quickly coated his cock with the oil. Pressing himself against Faramir's back he then pushed the head of his manhood against his entrance. "This may hurt a little," he said, as he began to thrust into the tight passage.

Faramir gasped as he felt Boromir start to fill his body. Despite his brother's warnings he hadn't realised just how this would feel. He had been so caught up by their new emotional bond that he hadn't fully considered the practicalities of this situation. "Stop. Stop," he cried, as the burn of his straining muscles began to turn to genuine pain.

Half-sunk into Faramir's tightness Boromir forced himself to stop, resisting the instinctive urge to bury himself in this hot, grasping hole. He stroked his hands across Faramir's back and chest hoping to get him to relax. "It's alright," he said, in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, "it's al-right. I'm not doing anything. I don't want to hurt you."

Faramir wanted to believe him but the pain wasn't something he'd expected and it wasn't fading. "You are hurting me," he said, almost sobbing. He didn't think he could stand this much longer - how could anyone find this pleasurable?

Realising that it wasn't getting any easier for Faramir, Boromir reluctantly pulled out of his body. "Relax, love. Look. It's alright now. I'm stopping. You know I wouldn't do anything you didn't want..."

Relief warred with disappointment in Faramir's mind. He wished that he'd been able to allow his brother to make love to him. He felt as if he'd failed by being unable to bear the pain. "I'm sorry..." he began, turning to face Boromir but he wouldn't let him apologise.

"It's not your fault you weren't ready. Just relax. We can always try again later, if that's what you want."

"I do," Faramir replied. "I want to feel you inside me. I just didn't realise how much it would hurt..."

"Don't worry about it," Boromir told him and, when he tried to speak again, silenced him with a kiss. Soon Faramir had forgotten whatever it was he was going to say as Boromir proceeded to kiss him deeply, desire stealing his higher mental abilities away from him.

They continued to kiss for a while, hands returning to gentle caresses such as they had shared in the past. Slowly Faramir found himself beginning to relax once more. Their embrace became gradually more intimate.

Boromir longed to be able to make love to his brother but forced himself to hold back. It would have to be Faramir who made the first move this time. He couldn't push him into making that decision, but his body ached with unsatiated desire.

Seemingly unaware of the passion still raging in his brother's veins, Faramir took his time in making that move. Finally he looked into Boromir's face, meeting his eyes. "I'm ready now."

Boromir was cautious; he'd hurt his beloved brother once already and had no wish to do so again. As before he slowly prepared Faramir for his lovemaking, then urged him to roll over onto his side again. Wrapping one arm around his slender form, he used the other hand to aid him in gently easing his way into Faramir's willing body.

This time Boromir moved as slowly as he could bear to, filling Faramir a little at a time until he was completely inside him. Then, as tenderly as he could, he proceeded to make love to him as he had promised.

Faramir could still feel some pain, but this time it was overshadowed by the incredible pleasure that built and built in his loins, driving him to push back against his brother, pleading incoherently for more. Soon any remaining pain had vanished completely, washed away by waves of ecstasy.

The two brothers' bodies twisted together, joined in mutual need and love, until their desires peaked leaving them drained but exultant. They lay in each other's arms for a while afterwards, regaining control of mind and body.

The day grew late and still they lay there together, contented with the other's company. They ignored the summons to dinner, knowing that the presence of others would shatter their illusion of peacefulness.

Then finally, as the evening drew in, Faramir fell asleep, surrounded by the warmth of his brother's love.

***End Flashback***

Still hanging in the bleak darkness between life and death, Faramir had never felt more alone. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he felt as if there were a hollow void in his chest where his heart should be. How could his brother have been taken away when he had loved him so much? How could he be expected to survive without being able to feel that love returned?

Faramir remembered the words of Boromir's spirit - that he still had so much to live for - but he couldn't imagine that life without Boromir would be worth living. Yes, he could hold within his heart memories of happier times, but that would be all they would be - memories.

Once again Faramir felt his surroundings change. He began to be able to faintly hear something. As he concentrated on the sound it resolved itself into his father's voice. He was calling him, calling him to return. Pleading with him. Faramir had never heard such emotion in his father's voice before. He supposed that Denethor was also suffering from the pain of Boromir's death, but he hardened his heart against his father's call. It was his fault that Boromir had died, if he hadn't sent Boromir away to find the answer to the riddle of his dream...

Faramir remembered the words of the strange halflings he had met in Ithilien, remembered the way they had treated him with caution merely because he resembled his brother. Boromir had not been strong enough to resist the lure of the Dark Lord's ring. He, himself, might even have been tempted if it hadn't been for the uncanny sense of revulsion that had come as he thought of it. Yet it was Boromir who had been sent, not him. Boromir, whose sense of love and duty for his people would have blinded him to the ring's true nature. *Why send him, father? How could you allow him to leave?*

Forcing himself to ignore the summons in his father's tone, to ignore the voices calling him back, Faramir let his thoughts drift back to his and Boromir's final parting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking at my original notes on this chapter, I first posted this to FFN almost 11 years ago to the day...


	4. Chapter 4

_Forcing himself to ignore the summons in his father's tone, to ignore the voices calling him back, Faramir let his thoughts drift back to his and Boromir's final parting._

 

**Flashback**

Once again it was the height of summer, this time but an hour 'til dawn. Boromir had arisen early so as to have time for farewells before he had to depart. Now he was standing in the doorway of his brother's chamber, watching Faramir sleep.

As if feeling the gaze upon him, Faramir stirred, then opened his eyes. When he realised that Boromir was standing before him he was drawn instantly into full wakefulness. "Boromir," he said, sitting up in his bed. "Surely you're not going yet?"

Boromir smiled as he moved further into the room, pushing the door shut behind him. "Not yet, no. I needed to come and say goodbye to you first." He walked over to the bed and sat down on its edge, reaching out a hand towards Faramir. "Did you have the dream again last night?"

Faramir shook his head. "No. Not since it was decided that you should go to find Imladris." He clasped his brother's hand in his own and felt his eyes begin to fill with tears. Part of him wished that he'd never told Boromir of his dream, for then his beloved brother would not be being sent far away, but he knew that the message of the dream was of pressing importance.

Seeing the tears forming in Faramir's eyes, Boromir pulled his brother towards him, wrapping his arms tightly around him. "Do not worry, Faramir. All will be well. I will find Imladris, and seek the counsel of Elrond Half-Elven and mayhap I will return before the first snows fall."

Faramir didn't speak, instead holding his brother as closely as he could. He had lived in constant fear of losing him for many moons now, never more so than when the Enemy had driven them back from Osgiliath and yet that very night he had had the fateful dream that was to send Boromir many leagues away.

Boromir stroked Faramir's back, gently soothing, trying to reassure him. Gradually Faramir relaxed, and he looked up to meet his brother's concerned look. "I wish I didn't have to leave you..." Boromir said.

Faramir forced a smile onto his face. "I know. But we have no choice. This is a matter which is bigger than the both of us. Gondor needs us to make this sacrifice..."

"Don't let us speak of sacrifice," Boromir interrupted, "This will just be a short separation, I'm sure. What harm will I come to amongst the Elves? It is you I fear for, here with the Enemy on our doorstep and only Father's company."

At this last Faramir's expression became troubled. Denethor had little time for either of his sons, but for the most part he seemed to favour Boromir. Whether it was because of Faramir's gentler nature or merely that his firstborn should be dearer to him, none knew, but Faramir could do little good in his father's eyes. He sighed heavily.

"He's only doing what he thinks is best," Boromir said, trying to ease his mood. "He's doesn't mean to hurt you..."

"I know that," said Faramir. "It's just hard, that's all. Whatever I do it's never enough for him." He paused and took a deep breath, then, "But I shouldn't be talking like this when you must be nervous about your journey. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I care about you. I don't want to leave knowing that you're miserable."

Faramir laughed bitterly. "I'm not likely to be anything else with you gone. Though I'm sure Father will try to keep me too busy to be miserable for long."

Boromir smiled, then stood, still holding Faramir's hand. "Come along," he said. "If I have to leave, you have to come to see me off."

This time Faramir's laugh was genuine. "It's not dawn yet," he said. "Surely you're not leaving for another couple of hours?"

"Unfortunately, I am. It'll be bad enough travelling in this heat as it is, without waiting for the day to warm up before I set off."

Faramir knew that he was right, and reluctantly forced himself out of bed. He didn't want to move, certainly didn't want to be saying farewell to Boromir, but he had no choice. He wouldn't let his brother go _without_ wishing him well.

He dressed quickly, they had no time to linger together this morning, and then the two brothers made their way down to the stables. They had to stop enroute for Boromir to collect his pack from his quarters, but at such an hour the tower was all but deserted and so they were able to avoid any intrusions.

The stables were also empty as they arrived, though it seemed they had been occupied as Boromir's horse was saddled and ready to depart. At this sight, Faramir stopped as he felt his stomach sink. Up until then he had been able to think of Boromir's leaving in a detached manner; now the full impact of this undertaking was beginning to sink in.

Boromir had continued walking towards his horse, to check that everything had been prepared properly, but stopped when he realised that Faramir was no longer beside him. He turned, a concerned look on his face, asking, "What's the matter, Faramir?"

"I'm sorry," Faramir said, sounding miserable. "It's nothing, really..." Mentally he berated himself for allowing Boromir to notice his distress. *You know he has to leave. _You_ argued that someone should be sent to Imladris to discover the meaning behind _your_ dream. Why are you shirking from this duty now?* But he knew why; he had never expected it to be Boromir who was sent away on this mission and he had an odd sense of trepidation.

Putting down his pack, Boromir gazed into his eyes for a long moment then, with a sigh, walked over to where Faramir stood. "You don't have to worry about me," he said. "And don't try to pretend you're not, I know you too well." He paused before wrapping his arms tightly around his brother, "I love you, you know..." he whispered in Faramir's ear.

Faramir had been hesitant in accepting the embrace when they could be interrupted any moment, but Boromir's whispered words melted his resolve. He, also, wrapped his arms around his brother, holding him as closely as he could, head resting against Boromir's chest. "I love you too," he said, his voice muffled by his brother's body.

They stood like that for several minutes, until they heard the patter of footsteps on stone that indicating someone's approach. Stepping apart, they were standing, looking into each other's eyes when the newcomer arrived.

"Lord Boromir?" asked a tentative voice.

Boromir spun around to see who hailed him. A serving boy stood at the far entrance to the stables, holding what appeared to be a heavy sack. "Yes?" Boromir asked sharply, annoyed at having been disturbed.

The lad quavered under Boromir's harsh look, but managed to say, "Th-these are th-the provisions ordered f-for your j-journey..." He held the sack out towards the steward's son.

"Well, leave it there then," said Boromir, not seeming to realise that he was making him nervous. The boy, seemingly relieved at this apparent dismissal, put the sack down against the entranceway and hurried away. Boromir turned back to Faramir, who shook his head at him, a half-smile on his face. "You needn't have been quite so sharp with him," he said, "He was only doing his duty."

Boromir looked impassive. "We have little enough time as it is. I didn't want to waste any of it dealing with unimportant things like that." He took a step closer to his brother. "Now... where were we?"

Faramir smiled and stepped forward into Boromir's arms once again. He tilted his head up, and found Boromir staring into his eyes. Boromir leant down slightly and their lips met in a gentle kiss. They broke apart after a moment, Faramir saying, "I wish you didn't have to leave..."

"I wish I didn't either," Boromir said, his arms instinctively tightening around Faramir's body. They kissed again, then again, passion growing between them. Boromir knew that they wouldn't have much time before their father arrived and said, "Never forget that I love you, Faramir. You mean the world to me..."

Faramir made to speak, but then they both heard the sound of new footsteps approaching and moved apart again. Faramir's heart sank as Denethor arrived, now he would have no chance to give his brother the farewell he would have hoped to.

"Boromir..." Denethor said, smiling at his eldest son then, "Faramir..." as afterthought.

Both brothers returned his greeting without enthusiasm, both wishing that he could have taken longer in arriving. Boromir turned away from his father and brother to collect the sack of provisions that had been left in the far doorway.

"Are you ready to leave then, Boromir?" Denethor asked. To Boromir's eyes, his father looked far too cheerful for someone who was sending his son and heir many leagues away at the worst possible time and on what was, potentially, a dangerous mission.

Boromir began loading his gear onto his horse. "Nearly, Father... I was just saying farewell to Faramir and waiting for you to arrive."

"Well, I'm here now," said Denethor, ignoring Faramir, even though his eyes had narrowed and his lips pursed at the mention of his name.

Frowning internally, Boromir turned back to face his father. "Yes..." he said, indifferently. *How can I leave Faramir here, alone, with him?* he asked himself. *Father can happily ignore him whilst I'm around, but once I'm gone... well, who knows how he'll treat him? He's never been satisfied with anything Faramir's done...* He risked a glance across at his brother and the expression he saw on his face only increased his reluctance to leave.

Faramir was staring at the ground. He couldn't watch Boromir, knowing that he was about to leave, without wanting to run to him or weep or both, and yet he knew that their father would be furious if he did any such thing. So he stared at the ground, which wasn't going anywhere, wasn't about to break his heart, and his expression grew gloomy.

The three of the stood in silence for a few moments; Boromir not wanting to say that he was ready to leave - he _wasn't_ ready to leave, not with his beloved Faramir still hurting; Faramir refusing to do anything at all, as if in the hope that, if he stayed absolutely still, then time would do the same; and Denethor waiting for one of them to speak.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Boromir? Are you ready?" he asked impatiently. He sounded more than a little confused about what could be delaying him.

Suppressing a sigh of irritation, Boromir had to reply that he was. He paused, then quickly stepped forward, hugging both his father and his brother briefly. If he lingered a little longer over Faramir it wasn't enough to be noticed, though Faramir felt his spirits rise, as though a measure of his brother's strength had passed into him.

Boromir gave his horse one last quick check over, then mounted it and prepared to leave. He glanced again at Faramir and was relieved to see that his brother looked somewhat more at ease. *Just be strong until I return,* he thought, willing Faramir to sense his love.

Denethor stepped aside, leaving Boromir's path to the gate free. "I wish you well, son," he said, and his face showed no emotion at the parting.

"Good luck, Boromir," said Faramir, so quietly that Boromir almost had to strain to hear him.

"Farewell, Father... Faramir..." And with that Boromir spurred his horse forward towards the gate. He daren't look back - any show of weakness on his part would no doubt be taken out on Faramir in his absence - and anyway, he didn't want either of them to see the tears forming in his eyes.

Faramir stood watching his departing back, watching where he had left until long after Boromir himself had disappeared from view. Denethor had gone as soon as Boromir had passed through the gates and so Faramir was alone in the courtyard in front of the stables.

Nevertheless, he held back his tears and emotion, burying the pain deep inside him, knowing that his father could read deep into his thoughts.

 

**End Flashback**

And with this painful memory Faramir found himself back in the empty darkness. He didn't know how long he had been here - it could be hours, it could be days, it could be weeks. All he knew was that he couldn't bear to return to his body; that nothing could heal his wounded heart and make his life worth living once more.

Then, once again, he heard a voice in the darkness, a strange voice this time, one that he didn't recognise. *Who would bother calling for _me_?* Faramir wondered, as the voice took on a commanding tone.

"Faramir," it called, "Faramir," ever coming closer. As with when Boromir's spirit had appeared to him, Faramir's surroundings grew gradually brighter and once again he was able to make out a tall figure coming towards him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Chiara for beta-reading.


End file.
